


Strength

by orphan_account



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6384517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm learning what strength truly means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength

**Author's Note:**

> What is this? I don't really know. Drabble of some sort.

Strength.

I’m trying to figure out what exactly it is, what exactly it means, what exactly it feels like. I did a Google search and looked it up on the dictionary and everything—there were multiple definitions, all of which felt right in the logical sense, one way or another, but didn’t really seem to click with me morally.

Back when I had tentacles, I believed that strength lied solely in power and power alone. I thought that it was a matter of defeating your opponent against all odds because, well, you were strong. I sought the need to prove myself as one of the strong and nearly killed myself in the process.

I had my moments, though.

There were some nights in the lab when my medication was cancelled for one reason or another (it was sometimes used as a form a punishment, even, albeit no one said it aloud, hiding it under other excuses) and I was stuck hugging a pillow to my chest with tears streaming down my face.

Frankly, it was in those moments when I managed to think like a sane person without tentacles injected in their head, not counting the excruciating pain, of course. It was those moments when my bloodlust would fade and I would just lay there, praying for it all to end.

And, I think, that’s how Terasaka saved me.

If this were one of those clichè, overly sappy stories, I would be able to claim that the reason why he was able to calm me down despite my massive amount of bloodlust and raw rage in the moment was because I was fighting the tentacles’ power and was listening to him all along.

But no.

At the time, I was merely seeing red, and I was willing to kill him or anyone (I know, I know, I he tries to save me and that’s what he gets?) that stood in my way. 

When you change for someone, it’s typically because you’ve known each other for a while and share some kind of bond, I don’t know. But I didn’t change because or for him, my soon-to-be-classmates, or anyone else, really. Just myself. As selfish as it sounds.

I had already been thinking all of those things that he’d said, in the fragments of my consciousness, deep, deep down, somewhere the tentacles’ influence couldn’t reach.

And now I wonder: what is strength?

I suppose we all have our own definitions of it, so I’m searching for mine.

Perhaps I should ask other people? Was what I first thought.

I placed down my tank. I had been adding the proper modifications according to all the test runs and previous failures. I looked at Terasaka, who’s waiting for me, tilt my head, and ask: “Define strength?”

He looked momentarily surprised, then gives me an odd look. He was probably going back to all those times in the past with my tentacles, just like I did. “’Ya gotta be more specific than just that.”

I absently realized that we were actually having a proper conversation for once, since I usually talked to him while working on my latest invention.

…I really suck at this friendship thing. But I’m learning, right? And I’m definitely trying.

“I meant for you. When I say the word, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?” I asked. He smiled slightly. 

“I dunno,” he shrugged, looking like he was thinking about it. “Probably just the standard thing. Physical strength and stuff. Being able to get the job done and working with others, stuff like that.”

I contemplated on this, but I suppose we both realized that the atmosphere had grown rather serious, because we both laughed. He placed his hands in his pockets. “Come on, let’s go, we’ll go get some ramen, if you wanna.”

I packed my things and nodded, finding it within myself to smile back a bit.

“Yeah. I think that sounds nice.”

 

***

 

The sky was a tad cloudy, but I don’t really mind—I’ve never been one to appreciate too much sunshine, anyway. Terasaka and I were walking to Muramatsu’s family’s shop. I’m mostly used to the disgusting ramen by now, so we often drop by there after school.

Terasaka said that he’d texted Yoshida and Hazama, but apparently both of them were going to Koro-sensei’s after-school slithery sessions, or something like that. We had an upcoming Science test, so it only made sense. It’s one of my favorite subjects, though, so I didn’t have to worry.

I will probably end up tutoring Terasaka somehow. Teaching would have to be another skill I’ve been improving. 

We were talking about mundane things—school, training, assassination attempts, and the like—as we walked across the sidewalk with all the time in the world. I’m really glad for my friends, to be honest. The company… it’s unfamiliar, but it’s nice.

“So, Itona, any assassinations planned for tomorrow?”

I pressed my lips together and shrugged. “None. Do you need any help with yours?”

He waved his hands around dismissively. “I got nothing. I’ll probably just join in with the others if they let me. I think Isogai’s got something, I dunno.”

How we manage to openly and casually talk about assassinating our teacher without anyone realizing and calling the cops on us, I will never know. 

As we walked, I noticed an old man with fading gray hair and ragged clothes sitting on the sidewalk, his wrinkled face smiling. There was a can with a few wrinkled bills and rusty-looking coins by his side and he sat on top of a strip of cardboard. 

My hands dug into my pocket before I could think, and I pulled out a few clean paper bills from my pocket, and I knelt down and dropped them in.

“Thank you, child. Bless you,” he said, coughing into his palm.

I smiled warmly at him. “Oh no, sir, it’s no problem at all.”

Terasaka looked mildly surprised, before he followed my example. He smiled at me (he kind of looked proud) and I smiled back as we continued walking.

“That was nice of you.”

“I guess.”

I’m not perfect in the slightest, and I acknowledge that I’m still figuring out how friendship works, how to be nice to people, and how to be a better person. I’m spinning my thread—and I will never make the mistake of forgetting my roots again. Even if I’m back here at square one.

But that’s okay.

I’m learning what strength truly means.


End file.
